


Home for the Holidays

by FadedSepia



Series: The Gift That Keeps on Giving [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Christmas Angst, F/F, F/M, Gift Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 19:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13130268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FadedSepia/pseuds/FadedSepia
Summary: A gift to Laurathia for the Gundam Wing Secret Santa Exchange.Christmas is almost here, and two pilots are on the outs. Nothing an awkward Christmas mission can't fix, right?





	Home for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laurathia](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Laurathia).



10th December

“So you really think we can do something about this? It’s been over month, already.”

WuFei shook his head, unsure of how to answer the young woman seated across him. “Heero has been doing surprisingly well… or at least he’s maintaining his façade.”

“It’ll be alright.” Quatre nodded to her across the low map table. He rolled out a fresh sheet of paper and handed each of them a pen. “We’ve planned for more difficult operations; this will be simple. Trowa won’t in Cologne for a few weeks yet, and WuFei made sure Heero’s rotation has him assigned here for the holidays. We just need to outline our operational parameters and then adhere to them.”

“Plan the work, then work the plan?” Relena smiled back at him, uncapping her pen. “It shouldn’t take too long if all four of us-“

“Three, Rey. I’m out.” Duo patted her leg as he stood up from the low settee, headed for the door. “ I don’t wanna lie to either of them, and I can’t lie about something I never heard, right? Just tell me what I hafta do later.”

WuFei shook his head at his husband’s ploy, gently chastising him. “It’s not as if you can’t guess what we’re planning.”

“Yeah, Fei-by1, but I won’t _know_.” Snatching his work jacket off rack, he headed for the hotel room door. “Just make sure there’s an extraction plan… I don’t want to be in the middle of it if those two decide they’d rather _not_ kiss and make up.”

|~|~|

“Way- shoon Weenga oh Kakwa be piching uh Krowa2?” Turning on the tap, Duo spat his toothpaste into the sink. He swished a bit of water around in his mouth, then spat, again. “Won’t he think it’s weird if I do it?”

“Trowa can read Quatre like a book, and he’d be suspicious of Relena if she came alone to pick him up.” WuFei was already in bed, finishing up an email on his phone. The meeting had gone well. They had commenced this new ‘mission’ before even leaving the hotel, with Quatre handing off a letter to the concierge on their way out. As soon as he sent this, the other wheel could start turning.

The bed squeaked as Duo settled onto his side, burrowing under their quilts from the foot of the bed and scooting upwards. He peaked at WuFei from beneath the blankets, only visible from the nose up. “Yeah..?”

“You didn’t want to be the one to pick up Trowa, and he’d be on high alert if Relena went to pick him up _without_ Quatre.” He couldn’t help tapping the end of that upturned nose. “And since coming up with a reason for _both_ of them to need to ditch him was so difficult… It looks like it’s up to you and me.”

“Mission accepted, under one condition.”

WuFei considered asking what that was, but glanced back down to see Duo puckered up for a kiss, eyes scrunched tight. He chuckled, setting his glasses and phone on the bedside table, and turned off the lamp. “Mission accepted, indeed.”

|~|~|

14th December

Catherine Bloom giggled as she flipped over the elegant stationery. “Oh, this is perfect! Now you’ll have someone to see for Christmas!”

“Cathy, I asked you not to read my mail...!” Trowa snatched the letter from his older sister’s hand, leaving her pouting in the living room of his trailer. Even after five years, there were still times when she was too nosy for her own good. He read quickly over his friend’s familiar script, now understanding what Catherine had meant.

_Dear Trowa,_

_Relena and I are going to be in Brussels for a short while over Christmas before the annual New Year’s Peace Conference. We’re trying our best to get together with WuFei and Duo for lunch, and I’m sure they’d love to see you. I told you about WuFei’s promotion, didn’t I? Our schedules are a bit of a mess, but you know how he gets around the holidays without a big family around 3. Your schedule has you in Cologne on the 20th, so I’m hoping you can fly in to meet us. It would be a shame for the ticket to go to waste. You’re not allowed to be upset with me for buying it, either; Relena insisted we get you a practical gift. Plus, I already told Duo and WuFei you were coming, so they cleared out the guestroom for you! (It would be such a shame to disappoint them.) -_

He raked his fingers through his hair, pushing his bangs back for only a moment. Trust Quatre to back him into a corner. He was even playing the ‘ _family’_ card this time. Now Trowa would look like an ass if he didn’t show up, and WuFei really would think they were at outs. He almost growled as he picked back up where he’d stopped reading.

_\- If you have time, please do confirm and let us know. We can figure out the details closer to the actual date. It may only be a few days, but it wouldn’t be right to celebrate New Year’s everyone there. Send my love to Cathy and Auda, and, of course, little Ahsan. (Lena will not stop pouting about the fact that you became and uncle before she became an aunt.)_

_Warmest wishes,_

_Quatre_

|~|~|

23rd December

“Tro! Over here!”

From where he stood trapped behind a wall of holiday travellers at the edge of the spaceport arrivals gate, Trowa could barely make out the bouncing blip of black and chestnut brown that were Duo Maxwell and his hair. If he’d only been a little shorter, he could have ducked behind some of the other travellers, hiding his embarrassment. As it was, he only gave Duo a quick little wave as he continued his shuffle up towards the exit gate.

Despite his apparent giddiness, Duo managed not to jump the exit check to get to him. In fact, he got a good three steps away from the gate before he was pulled into a near-crushing hug. With his arms pinned to his sides, Trowa couldn’t do much more than lean in, bending to rest his chin atop the shorter man’s head.

Duo pulled out of the hug with a sigh, mock glaring up at him. “Guh! You’re _still_ growing?”

Trowa offered a Gallic shrug in reply, as Duo grabbed his overnight bag and took hold of his arm. “Damn, but you and Q make me feel so short!”

“It’s a good thing you married WuFei, then.”

“Heh. Yeah…” That sheepish, lovesick grin still looked a bit out of place on the face of the former Shinigami. Their wedding the year previous had been one of the few times Duo’d been still enough for photographic proof that he was, in fact, two whole centimetres taller than his husband. He still wouldn’t let WuFei live it down.

Trowa hiked his bag higher on his shoulder as Duo’s arm hooked into his, dragging them through the throng. “I’m a little surprised he isn’t here, actually.”

“He had some work to do for the office before they close for the holiday. Debriefs and paperwork, I think?”

“Ah…” They were outside, now, having to dodge package laden travellers and sputtering cabs as they tried to reach the parking decks.

“How long have we got you?”

“Four days. Then I’ve got to see a man about a lemur.”

The braided man stopped dead on the median, face incredulous. “Are… are you serious?”

“Am I?” Trowa smirked, the brow not hidden by his hair crooked upward as he looked down.

Duo laughed and pulled him in closer as they continued on through the December chill. “It’s good to see ya, T.”

|~|~|

“Chang.”

“Yuy.” WuFei glanced up from his current stack of forms to nod to the other man currently leaning in his doorway. When Heero, after some minutes, didn’t step back across the hallway, he glanced up with a sigh. “Yes?”

“Lunch. With Duo.”

Glancing up at his clock – 12:48 – then back down at the pile of paperwork, WuFei shook his head. “I’ve got to get through this before billing closes. They’re not accepting any new files before 14:00 so that they can finish up before tomorrow.”

“So we’re not going?” Heero’s voice dropped and, just out of view on the other side of the desk, he toed gently at the carpet. If WuFei wasn’t going, then neither was he. It wasn’t like he could take transit, especially not today.

Though he was usually fine in a group, and seated near an emergency exit, Preventers Agent Yuy did not take public transportation by himself. There were too many variables to account for, too much input to handle, for him to feel comfortable hoping something like a tram into the city proper. Plus, there was no way he was getting a cab on a public holiday two days before Christmas.

Given how frequently he switched branches, it hadn’t made sense to buy himself a vehicle; most of the temporary agent accommodation were within walking distance of the offices. Chang had been his ride that morning – usually was his ride on the infrequent days he was at the main branch in Brussels – so it seemed he’d be working through lunch as well. It was a shame, since the social lunch with WuFei and Duo had been the only social bright spot over the holidays, especially now that-

“-ro? Heero? Damnit, pay attention Yuy!”

By the time he realized WuFei had thrown a set of keys at his head, Heero had already caught them, along with the note clipped to the keychain.

WuFei stepped around in front of his desk, arms crossed as he glared up at his friend. “ _I_ am not going to lunch. You, on the other hand, are, so stop moping. Reservation listing is on the note.”

“But-“

“No, the reservations are at Steinhilber’s, and they charge a fee if the reservation isn’t kept. He’s got an airport pickup today, so he’ll probably be late.” WuFei stepped back to the other side of his desk, pen once more in hand, and returned to his stack of forms.

“The faster sooner you leave, the sooner I can finish.” When Heero maintained his position in the doorway, blinking, WuFei glared up over the edge of his glasses, waving him off like a child. “Ouste, Yuy. Shoo, shoo..!”

Agent Yuy finally took the hint and headed for the carpark, still thoroughly confused.

|~|~|

“Duo, is this really the best way?” Trowa almost bit his tongue as the janky little SUV went over another rut. He was very glad there were multiple oh-shit-handles on his side of the car. Duo seemed to know where he was going, but the side streets of the city hadn’t been well maintained during the war years.

“Well, it’s not the _fastest_ way; no, but… “ Duo gestured to the crowd already spilling out onto another side-street from a nearby park. “It’s like live-action crossy-road out there. This is the _safest_ way.”

Trowa only grunted and tightened his grip. He’d survived two wars and nightly tightrope acts; he could survive a few more minutes of the buckboard4.

|~|~|

“Reservation for…” Glancing down to WuFei’s note, he mentally cringed at the man’s handwriting. It was beautiful, the elegant script of each letter perfectly formed, and – in Heero’s opinion – almost wholly illegible. “ Hyloys? No… Flylioys?”

The host blinked, looking down at his list before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, sir…”

Heero pulled the note in closer, tromboning it as if that would make the letters snap into a sensible word. F. L. Y. L… No, that was a ‘B,’ so…* “Flyboys. Reservation for Flyboys?”

“Ah… This way, sir.”

Heero trailed along behind the host, self-consciously tugging his jacket down. It wasn’t unusual for agents in uniform to be in here, and most of the usually business women and men from the banking sector just were pleasant enough. They had been here back in August for WuFei’s birthday, as the restaurant was casual enough that it offered free birthday cake, but not so casual that singing or a silly hat was involved. Today, with most of the businesses closed, however, it was surprisingly empty of customers. As the passed through the empty dining room, Heero nodded to one of the corner tables. “This is fine.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but that table that table is reserved.”

They stepped through the first dining room, the host giving a nod to the bartender as they moved further into the restaurant. Heero was walked past a number of small private dining rooms and alcoves before the waiter showed him to a private room near the kitchen. Inside, a single booth was set beneath the room's lone window. It was long enough for

“Your table, sir.”

What had Chang been thinking? Granted, Heero was all for a private meal away from crowds and loud noises, but this..? “This booth?”

“Sir?”

“Never mind.” This was becoming annoying; he took a seat on one side, hoping there was enough space for WuFei and Duo to cram in once they arrived.

|~|~|

_“Sanguis… bibimus… corpus… edimus… Tolle corpus-! Sat-! 5”_

"Sorry Tro, it’s Fei; I’ve gotta take this.” They were just pulling into shopping district parking deck when Duo’s phone started singing. He quickly backed into the closest parking space one-handed, already pulling out his phone.

“Are you okay? Yeah, we’re here…  Yeah, sure, one sec." Duo leaned forward to press at a button near the middle of the dash, connecting his phone to the car's sound system.

["Am I on speaker?"]

"Yeah, say hi."

["Hello, Trowa. I apologize that it's over the phone, again. How was your flight?"]

"Good afternoon, WuFei. It was... crowded, but not unpleasant."

["Good. Are you two getting through the traffic alright?"]

"It was a little crazy, but we just parked, yeah."

["So you're already there..."] They could hear a sign on the other end of the line before WuFei continued. ["I'd hoped you might be able to pick me up. The trains are running rather slow today, and some idiot took my bike out of the lot-"]

"They took your bike? _How?!_ ” Duo almost dropped the phone.

["With my spare keys, I'd assume. They're no longer in my locker.”] There was a sigh from the other end of the line. [“You'll just have to start without me; I can walk to the station, but it will take some time."]

“No, no, I’ll come get you.” Duo had already restarted the engine.

["Be safe."]

"Always am." The braided man hung up the phone before his husband's laughter got too loud in the small car. “Jeez… “

“We should go back and get him.” Trowa moved to re-buckle himself into the seat, but Duo's hand was blocking the belt latch.

“ _We_ can’t; this place is really swanky and they charge if you break a reservation… but they will seat you if only part of the group is there, so...?”

"Ah." Trowa nodded, unhooking his belt, again. "I will hold the table while you go get WuFei.”

“Thank you, Trowa.” Duo leaned in for another hug, adding an extra squeeze. “You’re a pineapple.”

“I thought the phrase was ‘you’re a _peach’_?”

“Well, yeah, but…” He reached up and flicked Trowa’s bangs with one finger, grinning as he changed the subject. “The reservation is under ‘Flyboys’!”

Trowa nodded as he shut the door behind him. “Drive safely!”

Duo flipped a thumbs-up over his shoulder as he closed the door, barely giving the engine a moment to turn over before he was peeling out of the carpark and back onto the motorway.

|~|~|

Heero finished his second complimentary muffin and took another sip of water, fighting the urge to once again check his watch. He didn't really need to; it had only been a minute and a half since the _last_ time he'd checked it. He'd arrived early, but Duo should have been here by now. Even with the crowded streets, Duo shouldn't have had a problem; the braided man was certainly a much better tactical driver than he was. 6 Chang wasn't answering his texts, either.

He flattened the parchment square that had encased the muffin, busying himself by folding it into a tiny, somewhat greasy, paper bird. He didn't want to keep playing with his phone, but there was very little else to do. Given the holiday, he had tried to indulge in people watching, but that hadn't been the best of ideas. The view of the river was decent, but seeing all the crowds milling about unawares set his brain into a logistical tailspin of snipers and soft targets...

He reached for another muffin, eyes focused back on the basket of bread.

|~|~|

Trowa trailed behind the host, eyeing the empty restaurant with suspicion. He knew that Quatre had a habit of going, well, _overboard_ when it came to planning events, but he hadn’t expected the other man to book the entire place. Not, of course, that the host had _said_ that, but there was no reason for a restaurant to be this empty on a holiday. He appeared to be the first one there, so it looked as if he’d have pick of the table. “This is good.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but that both is reserved.”

They passed the bar area, the bartender eyeing him from behind her counter as he passed, then giving him a wink and a thumbs up. Trowa shook his head, still following the host. When they came to the smaller private dining areas, he tried, again, to get the other man to stop. “This is a fine, really.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but these tables are reserved.”

This was getting annoying; he knew Relena wouldn’t shut up about it if they wound up seated back by the kitchen. “Yes, but we _have_ a reservation.”

The host paused, and looked back at him. "These tables are reserved for parties of four or more. You have a party of two."

"Two? Not five?"

"Yes."

"Just two?"

"Yes. Flyboy's. Party of two. And your other party member has already been seated, so…" The man tugged his shirt sleeve down a bit, then turned and continued on into the private booth rooms at the back of the restaurant.

Trowa groaned, praying to whoever would listen that it wasn’t who he thought it might be…

|~|~|

'Finally.' Heero nodded to himself as he heard the host coming up the hallway. He was, if he was honest with himself, quite embarrassed by the pile of wrappers he'd created during his wait. Thank goodness Duo had made it. He smiled - slightly, barely noticeably - as the host walked into the private room, followed by… _not_ Duo. Not Duo at all...

“Barton.” That was more accusatory than he'd meant to sound.

“Yuy.” Trowa stepped to the vacant side of the booth, but didn't sit down.

The host, from whose perspective it appeared both men were trying to melt the other with their glares, tried to break some of the tension. “Have you decided on a drink, or will you be staying with-”

“Water is fine.”

“I'll have iced tea.”

“C-certainly.” A perceptive man, the restaurant host was out of the secluded room before either of the two former gundam pilots noticed.

Tired after fighting through the crowd, and now more than angry, Trowa finally took his seat in the booth. He leaned against the wall, focusing a moment on the stack of muffin wrappers before directing his gaze out the window. “I take it the muffins were good?”

“Hn.” Heero shrugged, now incredibly interested in his water glass. “Not as good as yours…”

“Ah…” Trowa shrugged, watching the shoppers milling in the streets below.

The silence, previously something they’d both found comfortable, made Trowa’s teeth itch. He’d thought they’d had… something! But clearly he had been wrong. Still, _he_ wasn’t going to say anything. Not first. Even if he hadn’t told Heero the circus was moving on, he wasn’t going to crack. Not him. His thoughts were interrupted as a tall glass of tea landed in front of him. “Have you chosen a meal or would you gentlemen like more time?”

“I think we'll need more time, thank you.” Heero was at least pretending to flip through the menu, and they were once again left to themselves.

“Really, I'm not sure time is going to help all that much, Yuy.” He took a sip of his tea, glaring over his glass. Trowa fought the urge to flick Heero’s tiny collection of paper cranes, one by one, off the edge of the table, just to spite him. “What are you doing here?”

“I… Chang told me he’d arranged lunch for the three of us – him and Duo, not you – and I drove his bike over.” His blue-eyed table mate seemed only mildly put off by his glower. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? I finished my assignment, and the circus had moved… You weren't there…”

“‘I think I'd like to have something like WuFei has with Duo. It must be _so nice_ to always have a home to come back to.’” He’d picked up making air quotes from Cathy, and used them now, underscoring the mocking tone he threw back and Heero.  Trowa didn’t care if he was being petty because – in his mind – Heero deserved it. “You made it very clear that you wanted something you _knew_ I couldn't give. Or were those not your words?”

Heero sighed, then straightened across from him, pushing the basket, breadcrumbs, and paper birds to the edge of the table. He reached forward and caught Trowa’s hand, thumb pressed gently into the palm. “Trowa-”

It was the first time since he’d stepped into the room that his ex-lover had called him by his first name. “- I… I just meant it would be nice to always have a home to go to, not that it had to be in the same _physical_ place. I meant that I’d like to be able to come back to you… Wherever that is… And then you wouldn’t talk to me…”

Understanding overwhelmed him, and Trowa Barton shook his head. As blunt as he could be about some things, there were times when Heero was remarkably obtuse. And times when he, unfortunately, was terribly thick-headed. “So I spent the last month with my head up my ass over nothing?”

“You’re very flexible.” Heero shrugged sheepishly, still squeezing his hand across the table. “And I could have forgone being subtle and asked to move in with you.”

“Is that… could we make that work?” He knew it sounded needy, but Trowa couldn’t keep that hopeful note out of his voice. The crushing weight of fear was still there, and there was always a chance neither of them could make it work, but… Maybe? He threaded their fingers together, hiding behind his hair. “It's a rootless existence, Heero.”

“I don’t have any home ground-side.” There was the hint of laughter behind those blue eyes as he leaned in closer, voice barely a whisper. “When I wasn’t with you, I lived in the Preventer dorms.”

Two of the deadliest men in the world were whispering like nervous schoolboys over a half-empty basket of bread. It was an absurd situation, and Trowa couldn’t help it. He laughed, like he hadn’t in years.

They were still holding hands when he sobered up, Heero’s thumb rubbing small circles over the back of his hand. He pressed a kiss to the back of the other man’s hand, smiling back at him. Maybe he wouldn’t have to hurt Duo or Quatre… too badly.

|~|~|

25th December

“Yes, about two kilos. Yes, I… No, Quatre, slow down!” WuFei had his cell balanced between his shoulder and neck, hefting the package. He set it back down gingerly on the table, putting the phone beside it as he turned on the phone’s speaker. “So what, exactly, happened?”

[“We got the delivery last night from Heero and Trowa.”]

“So did we. I had to assume things went well. My bike didn’t show up until last night, and this package was on the seat.” He bent to rummage under the kitchen sink, reaching for the bomb-diffusing kit Duo insisted they keep in the house. No one, he’d thought, would be dumb enough to send them a bomb…

He set the toolbox on the table, setting out the myriad tools inside. “And, what, exactly happened?”

[“It’s a literal glitter bomb, WuFei. It’s…”] Quatre huffed. [“Relena opened it – we thought it was another bear – and she-“]

Relena’s voice cut in. [“It’s in my hair! I’m covered in it! Guh, I look like an ornament!”] Her stomping was audible as she walked away.

[“It’s like the dye packs from a bank. We’ve tried almost everything, and it will _not_ wash off.”]

“We’ll be careful then.”

[“Happy Christmas, WuFei. Pass the wishes on to Duo when he wakes up.”]

“Merry Christmas, Quatre. Good luck.” WuFei took a deep breath, letting it out as his hands steadied. He could get this done and disposed of before the coffee was even finished brewing. This would be easy. He lifted the tiny blade to cut along the first piece of tape, moving slowly. Steadily. Almost finished...

Having crept down the stairs, much like a child trying to catch Saint Nicholas, Duo Maxwell could smell the coffee brewing. And there was his adorable husband, bent over something on the counter, just waiting to be startled. He couldn't help rushing up to hug him. "Merry Christmas, 'Fei!"

|~|~|

**Author's Note:**

> 1: Rhymes with ‘baby.’ Considered ‘Fei-baby,’ but shortened it to ‘Fei-by.’
> 
> 2: “Wait- shouldn’t Relena or Quatre be picking up Trowa?”
> 
> 3: Really, WuFei had the most normal seeming family among the pilots. I imagine that knowing his entire family is dead – and still often blaming himself for their deaths – can actually make the holidays a pretty crappy time for him. So Quatre is being extra manipulative right here, since WuFei is clearly the most tragic orphan of the group. Sure, Quat lost his dad, but still has his sisters; WuFei has nobody left. Heero, Trowa, and Duo never had stable home lives to begin with.
> 
> 4: Old family term for a small, 2-wheeled cart that without suspension. My great-granduncle had one. I figured Trowa has had some experience with horse-drawn carts.
> 
> 5: Duo’s ringtone is the theme from The Omen.
> 
> 6: Based on a tumblr post that pointed out just has rarely – and badly – Heero seems to be behind the wheel of a vehicle.


End file.
